Committed

A few years ago one of my friends gave me a copy of Elizabeth Gilbert's, Eat Pray Love. It was a book that had received a lot of media attention, yet didn't tug at my intellectual yearning to read. It wasn't until a second friend gave me her copy of the same book that I thought perhaps I should give it a try (after all, friend #2, much like myself rarely loans out her books. To loan a book is an expression of great love). Both women said that I'd love the book, and that the author's voice reminded them of me. Uh-oh.

I read the first two sections of the book, that took the author from married, to mourning her marriage through the food of Italy, and sanctity of spiritual of India. I stopped there. I didn't enjoy the book, and I thought that the author was rather self-indulgent as she travelled (by means of monetary advance from her publisher by the way)and indulged in, good food, spiritual retreat and adventure. Not every woman who finds herself on the other side of a bad marriage has the good fortune to be able to wallow in this kind of obsessive, border-line selfish thinking. Most are not writers, and that does give Ms. Gilbert much more leeway in my eyes. Most women are praying to get through the day to day demands of paying bills, raising children (if they have them), and not falling apart emotionally while living hand to mouth and day to day.

When I first picked up the book and started reading, I thought, “Oh my gawd! Am I that self-indulgent?! Do I really obsess about things like this woman?! Come on! “. It was kind of like being set up on a blind date and wondering what the heck the setter-upper had in mind when they matched me with the guy across the table. Pul-eaze! I did have to concede however, that yes, I obsessed, especially about my single/dating status. And yes, my friends had very patiently listened. Maybe they thought the book would hold up a mirror, and finally make me shut up. That, or increase my gratitude for the freedom I have as a single person OR encourage me like good girlfriends do that Mr. Right is out there somewhere, and I would meet him when I least expect it. Hahaha. Very funny ladies.

Anyway, two weeks ago I wanted to read something. My bed is, and always has been surrounded by books. I keep the ones I'm reading, and the ones yet to be read on shelves at arms length near my reading lamp. After all of these years of bachelorette-hood, I have come to the conclusion that I am happy as I am. Not just, I'll-get-by-until-the-next-guy-comes-along happy, but really content just having my own space and managing my own time and money. So, in my comfy bed with lots of pillows, I reached over and pulled Eat Pray Love off the shelf and started the final third of the book about Ms. Gilbert's adventures in Bali.

Much like my philosophical friends who think relationships happen when we need them, and we learn the lessons we need from these relationship when it’s time for us to learn these lessons, I believe that we read what we read when we need it, when we’re ready to translate whatever message happens to be hidden in those millions of words for us.

The long and short of it is that I did enjoy the last third of the book. That third did remind me of me, and how I relate and make my place in the world. Isn’t it nice to see that part of ourselves reflected back in our choice of literature? Anyway, I enjoyed the book and had read an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert in Shambala Sun magazine about her new book Committed; A skeptic makes peace with marriage.

After I finished the first book, I wanted to know what happened with neurotic Elizabeth, and her very sexy Brazilian lover Felipe. I mean, how bad could it turn out? He was Brazilian after all. I must confess here that every blue moon I actually take a hit of Harlequin romance myself. My dealer is a mid-fifties Newfie housewife who secretly boils bologna and cabbage and says prayers over the pot that I might meet Mr. Wonderful who will sweep me off my feet, take care of all of my worldly cares, and treat me like gold just the way her husband treats her. Keep boiling bologna old girl. I need all the help I can get.

Anyway, I bought my copy of Committed, and settled in with it. Yes, it does tell the story of Elizabeth and Felipe, and it does end “happily ever after”. After, that is, a hellish experience with the bureaucracy created by a paranoid, red-neck Republican U.S. government called “homeland security”.

Gilbert’s book gives us a great narrative about the history of the institution of marriage, and insight into how an independent woman’s mind wraps itself around that institution. From Greek philosophy to the early days of the Christian church, and marriages for land and power pre-middle ages, it is a sweeping testament to how “thinking women” as Gilbert puts it, come to terms with the great losses and gains of marriage. What the price of that intimacy is, and what the price of not having that type of intimacy is.

I remain, as I did before I read the book; content in my being. Content with my home, my child, my friends and my spirit, and maybe a little inspired. Inspired to think it is possible. I would marry again, but not under the same circumstances, or with the same expectations. Meeting a really nice man who can carry a conversation with me would be a good start.